


Up to my neck in magic and muck

by Vera



Category: Magids Series - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Animals, Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-14
Updated: 2011-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-16 23:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera/pseuds/Vera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The future is not always as rosy as promised. Sometimes it's just bloody hard work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up to my neck in magic and muck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [opalmatrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/gifts).



Maree Mallory is up to her armpit in a cow’s uterus. Well, a Koryfonic cow, which is not quite like an Earth cow. It is similar enough for Mallory to be mostly confident that what she’s now doing will result in a successful live birth. The side of her face is mashed against the cow’s flank and she hears two heartbeats through sweating hide and heaving muscle. Poor Bessie doesn’t know how much more work there is to do. “Come on, you little bugger,” she mutters, trying not to breathe in hair. Koryfonic cows seem to shed profusely. She’s slowly tweaking the position of calf. Her arm feels like spaghetti and all her concentration is needed to get her hand to obey her. “Just a little bit more and you can come out and I can go to the damned party.”

“It is remarkable isn’t it?” High Lady Alexandra says, causing Maree to jump suddenly and lose her grip on the calf.

“Don’t sneak up on me!” Maree glares at the cow’s huge belly with her one open eye. She can’t possibly turn her head, but she knows that Alexandra will be standing in the mud and straw of the byre as if she were standing at court, immaculate and regal. She wiggles the fingers of her free hand, trying to will their flexibility and strength into the other. “You may have noticed that I’m quite busy here.” Bessie has started shifting about in distress. Maree has been trying to use Magid skills to keep her calm, but concentration is hard when you’re tired, bloody and in pain.

“Yes, that’s what’s so remarkable. An Emperor’s daughter midwifing in the barn. It’s nothing you’ve learned from me, thank you very much.” Her words are stern but her tone is fond and amused. “Where are the cowherds?” Maree can hear her rustling about while she tries to regain her grip on the calf.

“They’re at the party. We didn’t expect Bessie to calve tonight, so they’re all off drinking and carousing. There wasn’t time to fetch anyone when I realised what was wrong. The calf was in the wrong position. I’ve nearly got it right.” The rustling has stopped. Whatever Lady Alexandra’s been doing behind her, she’s completed. What Maree sees next makes her smile. Alexandra has covered her dress with a farmer’s smock, a farmer some twice the size of her elegant self, and has come around to Bessie’s head. She puts her hands on Bessie’s cheeks and looks into Bessie’s eyes. Whatever Bessie sees there stills her restless hooves and Maree finds the calf again.

“All right, Bessie, work with me now.” Maree braces her feet and pulls. Bessie bellows and Alexandra steps back quickly. In what seems an instant of very loud, very messy action, Maree is on the floor of the byre with a wriggling calf on top of her. “Don’t laugh,” she says, holding out both hands and wondering which would make less of a mess if she uses it to push her hair off her face. “Hand me a towel.”

“I wouldn’t dream of laughing.” Alexandra says, her voice light and full of laughter. “But do you mean one of these towels?” She’s pointing to a dirty pile of cloth that obviously got knocked into birth ground zero.

Maree sighs, grabs one of the towels and starts to help Bessie clean off the calf, checking its nose is clear. “I suppose I’m quite late.”

“Yes, quite, quite late.” Alexandra has fetched another smock and is holding it out to her. It suffices to clean her hands and Alexandra consents to hold them and pull her up. The floor is a mess, slippery and mucky, and she almost slips over. Alexandra’s strength braces her, though.

“Surely, my lady Magid, you could have assisted the birth less… entertainingly.”

Maree scowled through her hair, a haystack complete with straw she is now trying to remove. “Magid rules. Limited interference blah blah blah.” She flicked a piece of straw crossly. “And I didn’t want to immobilise Bessie because I needed the calf to move. My control’s not that fine. I need to spend some more time with Will. I’m sure he’s got some tricks up his sleeve. But, in the meantime, this one couldn’t wait. Oh, can there be a bath in my immediate future?”

At this, Alexandra lost her composure entirely, laughing so hard she bent in half. Affronted at first, Maree looked at her mucky clothes, her blood streaked arms, she blew at the hair falling in front of her face and started laughing, too.

Behind them, the calf struggled to its feet, legs wobbling as it looked around its new home.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Happy Purim, Opalmatrix. Making your gifts was a joy.


End file.
